


Marquess

by Marshmellowtoast



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Slavery, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-02-21 21:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2483378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marshmellowtoast/pseuds/Marshmellowtoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the kinkmeme.<br/>Prompt "au in which corvo is a sex slave who's gifted to the outsider, who is a prince from serkonos/tyvia/pandyssia/wherever you want him to be from<br/>shenanigans ensue<br/>and by shenanigans i mean hot sex"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

His life as a slave had originally begun in Pandyssia, while exploring the coast line away from his village he had wandered close one of the scattered trading towns.

The structures, unlike anything he had ever seen, were impossible to resist exploring. He was able to move easily through the town, avoiding larger crowds by taking back streets and roof tops. Quietly observing the people as they passed him by, taking in their strange forms of dressings and ornaments. 

He soon found himself at the docks, mesmerized by the ships. One in particular had him baffled by it's size alone, a black metal colossus, a hundred times bigger then any of the canoes kept in the village. A giant frame was built into the top deck, wires and ropes with savage looking hooks hanging from the structure. 

It all happened quickly after that, some kicked out his knees and pinned him to the ground while another tried to bind him. He thrashed wildly, trying to knock the man on top of him off, kicking at the other. The man on top of him grabbed a fist full of hair and slammed his head into the dock. 

The next things he remembered were unclear.

The cold damp of a metal room, bound by his hands to a point in the wall. Swimming lights and the sound of someone speaking in a language he couldn't understand. The satisfying crack of a man's nose splintering under his heel, the first of many to make the mistake of straying too close. It took another broken nose and a broken rib to tie his legs down. 

He would never know quite how long he was Trapped in that room, the smell of salt and blood thick in the air. Irregularly given food and water. 

When he did leave the ship, it was in iron chains. A man, not one of the people had imprisoned him, dressed in much cleaner clothing came to look at him. He had tried his best to bite the man as hands came close to inspect him and glared daggers at the man when he missed. 

His capture and the man argued for a time before exchanging a small bag of coins. 

Two brutish men carefully changed the ropes binding his arms for a set of iron bands and chains. 

He remained still while they worked and waited til they moved to stand before lunging a them, taking a savage bite out of one of their arms. He continued to struggle as they beat him to near unconsciousness and dragged him out of the ship.

 

The Sky that greeted him as he was dragged from the ship was unlike any he had sever seen before. Ashen clouds blanketed the sky, towers of smoke rising up to taint any that remained untouched. A faint ring of light the only trace of the sun.

Small flakes of white and ashen powder fell on his upturned face as he took in the skyline and buildings around him. A line of warehouses dominated the the shore line completely, and behind them yet more building stood, backing the warehouses so closely that they formed a sea of grimy bricks and wood. Each one of them billowing black smoke up towards the already seemingly full sky.

His view was blocked rather abruptly by the building he was being taken to. A stone building, small by comparison to the others surrounding it, with a pointed iron fence boxing in a small courtyard as it's front. A few people were working in the courtyard, most carrying shovels and clearing a path through the strange powder. These people he noted were all wearing chains like his own around their wrists and ankles. The others in the yard, were carrying weapons most had simple swords, but he could see at least two carrying guns. 

He didn't have long to look at the interior. As soon as he entered the building, he was taken to a tiled room and his chains were fasten to a ring set in the wall. They stripped him of this clothing and the few ornaments he had, despite his attempts to stop them. When they were finished, one of the men grabbed a hose from the wall and began spraying him with freezing cold water. The length of the chain prevented any sort of relief, too short to scramble away or attack the man with the hose. He was shaking as they removed his chain from the wall and pulled him deeper into the building, to a cell that held only a set of thread bare clothing.

 

During his time there, he managed to make three attempts to escape. Once while they had him cleaning in the yard, he spent a few minutes working before making a dead sprint for the gates, stabbing a guard who got in the leg with a broken broom. The second occured a week later, he had been moving equipment to and from the building, when he managed to slip past the guards, incapacitating a few and making it as far as the docks before someone finally managed to drag him back to his cell. His final attempt happened late the same night, using a key he had stolen from the guards, he managed to escape from his cell and make it all the way to the front gates undetected, before one of the dogs kept on the grounds took him down.

 

He spent days in his cell after that, only leaving for the occasional meal and forced shower. One day while he was in a light sleep, a group of guards came into his cell, bound his hands and feet and forced him to kneel on the cold stone floor. A thin man he had never seen on the compound before was ushered into the room by the man who had bought him on the ship.

“A fine looking slave, no?”

“I've hardly had a chance to look. But if he is as violent as you say he is, then he is exactly what we're looking for.” Said the thin man, looking him over sharply.

“Like I told you Sir, he's beaten three of my men unconscious and left on with a broom sticking out of his leg. If you want a fighter, i don’t have any better then this.” 

“How much would you ask for this 'fighter' you are so proud of then?”

“300” 

“300? for a man that will only cost 6 to transport and even less to feed for a month?”

“Like i said Sir, he has caused me problems. Had to pay for all the men he injured out of my own pocket. Hired replacement staff in the mean time, hard to find workers these days with all new laws coming down soon.”

“Your bleeding heart isn't my problem. 150.”

“250”

“175”

“Deal. Pleasure doing business with you Sir”

“I highly doubt that. Have your carriage follow ours.”

Unable to understand the conversation He had chosen to quietly glare at the men in front of him. Once the two men had left the room, the largest of the guards picked him up and , despite his struggling carried him through the building to a waiting carriage.

Wind whipped through the bars of the caged wagon, easily cutting through his thin clothing, and biting at his skin. Stick with no cover, he curled in on him self as best he could and watched the city as it rolled by. 

Vaguely spaced warehouses slowly gave way to soot covered houses and shops, packed impossibly close together. Crowds of people shuffled about the streets, moving from house to shop and back again. Few of them gave the carriage more then a second glance, the ones that did staring openly at him and whispering among themselves. He glare at the ones who did, envious of their freedom and warm clothing. As they continued to move through the city the housing began to look more and more extravagant. Changing from small wood houses, to larger ones of stone, and finally to buildings as big as some of the warehouses he had seen by the docks.

All at once the buildings stopped, cut off by a white stone fence, behind it stood a building far more impressive then any he had seen before. A massive building, made of the same white stone as the fence, stretched out in either direction, small trees and the skeletons of bushes arranged elaborately around the grounds. A large cobble stone path led to the front of the manor, breaking off into smaller walking paths that wound around the area.

As the carriage pulled up, guards came to meet them, first speaking with the two men that exited the carriage, then moving around to the cage. One keeping a weapon trained on him as the other pulled him from the cage. 

They dragged him into the house behind the men who had taken him here, and the group quickly made their way through the building. The room they arrived in a large room, devoid of furniture, save for an occupied throne.   
The man occupying the throne, was a sight to behold. Skin pale as freshly fallen snow, contrasted by coal black hair, sharp features, and impossibly dark eyes that seem to draw you in on eye contact, blurring the rest of his features until all was lost in their void. Dressed in simply clothing, and flanked by a guard on either side, he exuded an air of confidence that could break a lesser man. 

“Lords Custis and Morgan Pendleton.” announced the guard who had been escorting them, gesturing to each of them in turn.

 

“What a pleasure it is to meet you, my Lord” said Morgan bowing slightly, and taking a few steps closer to the Throne. “ I wish we had arrived at a better time. We had originally hoped to meet with your father, but only managed to hear about his condition while en route. We wondered it you would be so kind as to pass along our business proposition-”

“Unfortunately, it seems that your information is once again out of date. My Father died earlier this week, and as i am the sole heir, i have taken over my fathers duties as Marquees. If you had any... business to discuss with my father, you may now discuss it with me.”

“We are terribly sorry for your loss sire” Said Custis stepping up to his brothers side. “It's always hard to lose a loved one, let alone someone in such an important position. The shift in political power can be-”

“While i do enjoy such pleasantries,” Said the Marquees, keeping an even and cutting tone. “I am in fact quite occupied with taking over my fathers position. If you have a proposition of some sort, it would be best to make it now.” 

The twins stood for a moment in silence, whether taken aback by the tone of speech or the interruption.

“T-Then with your permission sire, before our proposition, we would like to bestow upon you a gift.” stuttered Morgan, recovering slightly faster than his brother, turning and gesturing to the guard that had been holding their purchase. “We hope that he serves you well”

He hadn't been listening to the impossible to understand conversation, to busy taking in his new surrounding, but as the guard dragged him towards the throne, his attention focused solely on its occupant. The man held his gaze for a moment, drawing him into the void of his eyes. 

Smirking slightly the man spoke, his tone steady as before. “Does the 'gift' have a name?”

Unwilling to let the surprise of hearing his tongue from an outsider show, he continued to hold the mans gaze. “ Corvo.”

“Amazing, your Highness” Said Custis “A most impressive skill to have, being able to speak their savage tongue.”

“Your Proposal.” said the Marquess, slowly looking away from the man in front of him, to the twins behind. 

“Ah, yes” chuckled Custis “Well it's a simple matter really. You see our family has made it fortune off of gathering resources, and we were initially looking to simple expand our business in your territory. With the current situation in Gristol becoming more of an...issue we were also looking for parties willing to assist us on certain topics and problems that are arising more frequently. We are sure that with the support of few key leaders in the empire we could-”

“While a few of the simpler nobility might fall for your speeches, I must assure you that i will not. Although your mining operation can be profitable, all of the information we currently have leads us to believe that it will kill more of my people than it would ever feed. If you also believe I will support your movement against our Empress, than you have come to the wrong place. Now i trust that with the assistance of the guards, you will be able to find your way out of both my Keep and March. Have made myself clear?”

A look of horrified confusion passed over Custis' face, and as the words shank in, he retreated a few paces to stand beside his brother. Morgan, for his part, was trying to remain collected and stepped forward.

“M-my lord i can assure you that it was only our intention to-” started Morgan, but his speech was cut short by a gesture from the man on the throne. The guards moved quickly, grabbing each of the brothers in tow and dragging them from the room.

“Now then.” said the man, setting his hypnotizing gaze back on Corvo “ I wonder, my little bird, what ever shall i do with you.”

Corvo meet the mans eyes and stared back unflinching, as he adjusted his stance and planted his feet, is the man planned to have him killed, he would not go down without a fight.

The Marquess smirked at this, as if the change pleased him.

“Have the maids clean him and bring him to my chambers. I have a few matter left to attend to.” He said, gesturing to one of the guards.

Much to his bewilderment, Corvo was taken deeper into the building, through grand hallways, and up spiraled staircases, until they reached a chamber that smelt of strange flowers. This room was much smaller then the other, and contained a large basin of hot water. Two women waited within the room, speaking quietly amongst themselves, looking him over and judging his appearance. They waited until the guards had moved aside before starting forward and beginning to undress him. 

He pulled back, trying to stop them, but they were undeterred and after a short period of time he was left standing with only his manacles. It was not over yet though, as they then forced him into the basin of strange smelling water and began scrubbing at this skin with cloths and putting strange ointments in his hair. After they were satisfied they, drained the basin, dried and dressed him in simple clothing.

The guards once again, guided him to their next destination, though it was only a short walk away.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a Deal is made

This room was large, furnished only by a writing desk, wardrobe and four poster bed. All in dark woods with equally as dark purples and blues for the adorning fabrics.

The man was waiting from him there, sitting at the writing desk, only turning to acknowledged him once the guards had left. Standing to face Corvo, lacing his fingers behind his back.

“I have a proposition for you. The task of ruling this land has fallen to me, while that is not a terrible challenge, preventing the nobility from ending my life is becoming one. I am capable of insuring my safety for the time begin, i wish to plan for eventualities. What i propose, is that you remain here as my aid, your perceived lack of language will allow you to listen where others could not. Your day would be composed of simple tasks that required you to move around the keep, mostly delivering letters, and running personal errands for me. Keep in mind that you would also be compensated for this work and that you would be free to leave the grounds whenever not on an assignment.”

Corvo stared at him, this man was offering him shelter and work even though he had been gift a slave.

“What if i do not accept?”

“You would be free to leave and attempt a life else where. I dislike the trading of slaves at the best of times and doubt that i would be able to contain you if you truly wished to leave.”

“ Then why offer this to an outsider?” asked Corvo still puzzled at the mans motives.

He thought this over for a moment, empty eyes never leaving Corvos.

“The death of my father has left me the outsider Corvo. There are no other remaining member of my blood line and the nobility of this country are very aware of that. They have and will seek kill or dethrone me in any way possible to gain control. It has left me living in a den of snakes and while i will tolerate some defiance, i do not wish to worry about death at every corner and poison at every meal.”

Corvo stood quietly, taking in the man's appearance, wondering if the dark circles were from lack of sleep or worry. “I will accept your deal.” he said finally, the full weight of the words setting over him like a cloak.

The marquess smiled very slightly at his response, moving uncomfortably close to Corvo to place a small chain and symbol around his neck. Corvo took a moment to study the pendant, black lines pressed into silver, before letting it fall against his shirt. 

“This” Said the Marquess “ is my mark. Should anyone in the keep or my lands cause you ire, show them this mark and they will know that i will hold them accountable for their actions against you. Use it how you see fit, but keep our deal in mind before you do. I shall have the guards bring you to your room and tomorrow you will begin learning our language. The woman you will learn from is also versed in your tongue and aware of our deal.”

At this he called for one of the guards to enter, dropping the small smile and speaking to him quickly before dismissing him with a wave of the hand. Corvo moved to follow the guard, but stop just short of the door, turning to face the Marquess again.

“You have yet to tell me your name.” Stated Corvo challenging the man with his gaze.

The man smiled again, it was small and genuine, cocking his head slightly to the side.

“To all the others, I am the Marquess of Caltan of the isle of Tyvia, but you may call me The Outsider.”

 

On his way back through the long hallways and winding staircases, Corvo reflected over his deal with the Outsider. It would be simple enough to move about the house unnoticed, the large rooms with their random trappings, but learning another tongue would be a challenge. He observed everything as they moved through the building, starting to construct a mental map, planning to use his spare time to learn the area, should he ever need to fight or flee. 

His room was a far smaller then the outsiders, a bed in one corner, a table with two chairs, a chest at the foot of the bed and an empty shelf. The trunk, when opened revealed a few sets of folded cloths and linens for the bed. Corvo studied the room fully before barring the door with one of the chairs and curling up on the bed for some much needed rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh, shit this is a lot shorter then i thought it was....


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coats and Letters.

Corvo awoke the next morning with a start to the sound of knocking. He rose slowly to check who was on the other side, taking in his surroundings fully now that the window allowed sunlight in. All of the furniture was constructed of plain wood and only they chest at the foot of the bed held anything at all. His investigation was cut short by another timid knock.

“S-sir, I hate to interrupt your sleeping hours b-but the Marquess h-has asked me to come speak with you.” said a soft female voice from the other side of the door.

Still wary of another attack he removed the chair and opened the door a sliver to peer out. A young woman waited there, clutching a few books as if they were her life line. She jumped slightly when she realized that the door had opened, almost dropping her books as she recovered from the scare and bowed deeply.

Corvo opened the door and peered out into the hall itself looking for any possible threat. Satisfied, he looked back to the woman. She jumped again he began to stare at her and fidgeted nervously for a minute, seemingly trying to work up the courage to speak.

“I-i have been instructed to teach you how to understand the language used here. May i come in?” She asked waiting for him to let her through. When he had she entered the room quickly and shut the door. “I apologize again for the rush, but i am supposed to avoid begin seen as much as possible.”

The way she spoke was strange to him, it was his tongue and she spoke it clearly but he could not place the oddity. He watched her take out sheets of parchment, feathers, ink, chalk and a small framed blank slate. With nervous motions she organised the objects and began writing on the slate with the chalk. 

“I-it will be easiest to start with the basic alphabet and show how our language r-relates to this one. I will also show you how to write them out as well.” She said, finishing the letters and drawing a practice line underneath them.  
Their lesson continued on this way for a few hours before the woman relented. Corvo had made some progress, learning the first four letters and how to draw them reasonably well. He had been frustrated at first, completely unused to writing.

After collecting the tablet and chalk, she took him with to the morning meal, Like most of the household staff they ate in the kitchen at a long table that after their meal would be used for the daily preparations. A dozen maids, cooks and other servants were already seated and preparing to eat, chatting among themselves. This conversations came to an abrupt halt when they entered, their eyes tracking the pair as they move through the room. 

She took two of the prepared plates, keeping one of them for herself and handing the other to Corvo. Guiding them to some of the open seat, they sat and began eating.

“I hope you don’t mind me sitting with you.” She stuttered, keeping her eyes on the plate and only stealing the occasional glance at him. “I-I haven’t been here for as long as the other maids and it’s more comfortable to speak this way.”

Corvo shrugged, unconcerned with her presence “It does not bother me if you wish to eat here. Meals are best spent with company.”

They ate in pleasant silence while the others chattered around them. Once finished, they parted ways her heading off to her morning work and Corvo walking back to his room. On his way back a pair of guards intercepted him, gesturing for him to follow, Leading him through the winding halls, they ended up at a room near to the throne room he had been in yesterday,

Knocking lightly, one of them shouted something before half pushing him into the room. The outsider was sitting at a large wooden table, checking over papers and books. When Corvo stumbled into the room he looked up from his work, onyx eyes just as striking as the day before.

“I have little time for you today unfortunately, just the list of duties you have to carry out and a handful of other things to keep in mind.” He said, holding the paper out for Corvo to take. Once the paper was out of his hands, he turned back to his work without so much as a dismissive wave of his hand.

Unsure of what to do Corvo turned to leave, but as he turned to leave the man stopped him. “One more thing as well, A proper uniform as been ordered for you, and it will be here sometime within the week.” with that he fell silent again, not looking up as Corvo left.

He didn't read the note until he had returned to his room. It was a simple list, describing what would be his daily routine. There were a places and people alongside descriptions of the tasks he would be expected to complete there. Nothing seemed terribly complicated, a mixture of helping with chores, observing the people he was with and checking the grounds as he worked. Looking things over he headed to the first task on the list.  
It only took a few days to establish a proper routine. In the mornings, his tutor would come in the small hours of the morning to teach him the language, followed by breakfast and then his list of chores for the day. While the things he had been assigned were not terrible difficult, they were time consuming. He had little free time and made no effort to speak with the others servants, who only managed to communicate with him through various gestures. Most found it a less than endearing task and avoided him all together. This continued unchanged until one evening when Corvo returned to his room only to find a pile of parcels stacked neatly on his bed.

There were twelve in all, eight of them held an identical set of clothing. A white collared shirt, dark slacks and a navy blue vest with slim gold trim. Three of them held sets of sturdy work boots made of a dark leather. Corvo changed into one of the new sets of clothing, leaving the shirt and vest undone irritated by the amount of buttons. He slipped on a pair of the boots before turning to the last package, unwrapping it carefully. It held a coat made of strong navy canvas, it looked heavy enough to block the cold weather but still easy enough to move in,

While he was preoccupied with opening the last parcel, he hadn't noticed someone slip into his room. A pair of pale cold hands slid along his sides, leaving chills in their wake, before taking the loose ends of his shirt and doing up the first few buttons,

“Surely the buttons can’t be too complicated?” chuckled the Outsider, he rested his chin on Corvo’s shoulder as he worked, starting on the shirt and working his way to the vest. Breath caught in his throat, he tried not to move unsure of how to react. He could feel the Marquess pressed against him, the rest of his body just as cold as his hands. Finished with the buttons, the dark haired man took the coat from his hands and coaxed his arms into the sleeves.

Corvo turned around unprompted to let the other man look over his work. His expression didn't waver as he looked the outfit over, save for a slight quirk of his lips. “You cut an impressive figure my precious bird.” While a final adjustment of the collar, he left just as quietly as he entered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll just leave this here...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuck on a plane and all i want to do is sleep but nope. At least the steward has a cute butt.
> 
> Also you guys i can't even. How are you people so awesome? I don't understand what i did to deserve such nice people reading my garbage writing.

  
The lessons and work slowly build into a routine that fills his time. Mornings with his teacher, learning to understand the language.  Afternoons helping with various chores from simple heavy lifting to a handful of assignments guarding. All throughout it listening. Always listening. The Outsider, Marquess? Had named a select group to watch more closely then the others. Two guards, a cook, and the keeper of the books.

It had been simple to watch the guards, they often worked together and his assignments in the gardens overlapped with theirs to watch the grounds

The kitchens gardens were by no means large, tucked behind the main building and composed now of two small barren fields. His job was to chop wood for the fires and repair the small fences that surrounded the fields. They simply spoke about the weather for a time and watched their designated patch of grass. Complaining about the cold and hoping for the miserable conditions to improve soon. After a time and more then a few causal glances to check that the coast was clear they began to speak in hushed tones.

" Think it's safe talking 'round that one still? I don't want to lose out on account of a slave."

"Can't understand us you idiot. Hell I've heard tell 'e can't speak. Doesn't say a word to anyone, in our tongue or 'is own. So don't fuss over nuthin."

With one last worried glance at Corvo, the guard turned back to his companion relaxing.

"Fine, but if he runs to the Marquess it will be on you. Goods are in and I’ll pass em off to the cook tomorrow. Job should be paid and done by the end of the week." Said the first keeping as close and quiet as possible to he other without looking suspicious.

The other man nodded, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them in an attempt to stay warm. "Don't matter none to me as long as we get paid and out of this god forsaken wasteland. Haven't been able to feel my feet since we got here."

There conversation quickly degraded into more complaints about the weather and little else of use. Corvo had to fight the urge to simply set down his tools and report the plan directly to the Outsider, it would scare off the culprits and ruin their work to conceal his learning. Instead he continued as he was, finishing the fence before moving onto the wood.

It took time to finish, and one of the cooks came out to scold him for taking his time on the task. He simply stared at the woman until she stomped off in frustration,  cursing his stupidity. The pair of guards watched and laughed to themselves,  deeply amused by her attempts to shout at him. Once the pile was done and stacked he headed off to his other tasks, stuck in the loop of work until evening.

Corvo waited until deep into the night to find the man. Moving silently through the corridors and skirting neatly around the few patrols that wandered the halls this late. When he did finally reach the Outsider's personal chambers, he slipped inside shutting the door as quietly as possible. The room was almost as bare as his own, large wardrobe, writing desk and four poster bed were the only notable pieces of furniture. From the rest of the rooms and decorations he had seen, the room seemed lacking in useless shiny bits and curls.

Approaching the bed, Corvo pulled back the dark purple curtains in search for the other. It was a simple task to spot him amidst the sheets, his pearl white skin standing out clearly against them. The Outsider was an odd sight asleep, his face free of the icy mask it normally held making him look like the young man he was.

\----------

A drift on his back he found him self staring at the evening sky. The tops of building framing in the shades of red as they faded into blues and purples. He watched on calmly, the waves lapping gently at his face, as the building began to fade and the sky became a solid mass of blueish grey.

A brush of fur past his ear made him jerk, the feeling of water slowly shifting to that of matted and filthy fur. The smell of it washed over him in a nauseating burst and he fought the urge to vomit. He tried to rise but clawed hands latched onto him from below, pinning him in place by the neck. Hundreds of tiny teeth latched onto him then, pulling at his flesh, biting and tearing and binding. The inescapable agony of it was too much to bear and he cried out.

He sat up with a suddenly, startling the man who had been apparently been watching him. The Marquess righted himself almost instantly, his dark eyes sweeping over the looming figure. "I trust that you have important information for me? Watching someone as they sleep hardly seems like a fitting use of your time."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shenanigans?

Corvo stepped back at the man's abrupt movement, he had been ill at ease about this arrangement in the first place and seeing the other move so abruptly from sleep to his perfectly composed mask of neutrality. It was not helping matters. It was like watching a gate slam close. 

 

"I have news on the guards you asked me to observe."

 

It was odd to see him without any trappings at all, even if the ones he normally wore were plain by even comparison to his own palace. The simple shirt was far more then enough for him to look regal. Shifting slightly under the weight of those piercing eyes, he began to recite his findings. 

"The pair of guards that were stationed by the kitchens. They are planning something with one of the cooks."

"Poison then?" Asked the outsider, he head shifting minutely as if to listen.

"I do not know as of yet. It sounded so, but they did not go into -" he was cut off by a raised hand as the other looked towards the door.

Listening very carefully, Corvo could make out the sound of metal clicking against stone. The sound grew clearer with each passing second and he felt a cold well of fear spring up inside. They had never discussed what would happen if someone was to interrupt them. It would be too suspicious to make up any sort of excuse himself. All the Marquess would have to do was claim that he was being attacked and that would be that. There would be no way to reach the window or get past the guard when he walked through the door.

Too caught up in his own thoughts, he didn’t react as the Marquess simply took a hold of his hand and pulled. He landed with a dull thump over top of the other man, braced on his hands and knees. Without missing a beat, the Outsider tugged at his shirt tearing a portion of it open.

The door opened and the man made one last quick movement, grabbing Corvo’s jaw dragging him into a kiss. It started as a slight brush of the lips, a quick snap of teeth, a pained gasp and a tongue pushed it’s way inside. He had never done more than innocent fumbling as a teenager, too busy as an adult to worry about such things. Looking after his charges at home had been far more important than looking for a partner. 

The hand that had been on his shirt slipped behind and into his pants, shirt nails digging into his flesh as his ass was palmer and squeezed. With a yelp he moved forward to get away from the wandering hand only to press against the smaller man. Dully he heard a rushed apologies and metal shuffling quickly along stone as the guard hurried to leave.

Only once the man was gone did the Marquess let his grip loosen, letting Corvo pull back for air. A faint smile played across his lips as he took in the flustered state of his spy.

"There is a rotation of guards that is to check on me while I sleep. It helps to prevent assassination attempts." He explained, fiddling with one of the buttons that still clutched to the torn shirt by a thread. "I have never had a consort, so that has never been an issue up until this point. Though it appears that I have one now. If in rumor only. A fitting cover for your reports, no?"

Corvo was at a loss for words, the cold touch from those hands still radiated across his skin. The skill he had just been manipulated with, to set the perfect seen, was frightening and it made him wonder if the smaller man ruled with the same precision.

"You may get up now if you wish." Said the outsider, his voice holding the barest hint of amusement. "It there is nothing else as well you may leave. We will set up a schedule of sorts, or I will call on you to keep up appearances for a time."

Nodding, the spy shuffled awkwardly off of the bed, gave a stiff bow and left. The trip back to his own room was far quicker without the attempt at stealth.

______

His dreams that night were plagued with a mix of emotions. Hauntings from his time aboard the ship, the feel of bitter cutting cold pressed against his skin. Tight and constant around his neck and wrists, relieving against the welts that covered his back. Pain in sharp relief with the cold. Things changed slowly. The hard floor to silk sheets that were quickly being warmed by his back. Chains replaced with a cool hand, gently keeping his wrists pinned above his head. Most of all, pain to a delicious agonized pleasure as equally cold lips roamed his skin. Kisses mixed with nips and soothing swipes of tongue as they explored every exposed inch.

With a desperate moan, he awoke from the dream tangled in blankets and hard enough to be almost on the verge of pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shenanigans. 
> 
> I'm not dead I swear, just slow. Um, someone in the comments had asked how old Corvo is but I can't find it anymore. He is somewhere in his mid twenties. 
> 
> Thank you all for the many comments and kudos, I am glad that you all like it. ;-;


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Shenanigans. sort of.

Corvo's reports began to take on a strange pattern, waiting until the dead of night turned to visits in the early evening when the Outsider had finished whatever business he had for the day. Whatever rumors the guards had spread had worked in their favour, and he hardly warranted a second glance as he approached the room. There had been more looks his way at other times, as he moved through the castle going about his work as he normally would. Maids who clustered in small groups between chores to gossip would go quiet as he passed, to stare and blush only to resume their quiet tittering once they felt he was out of ear shot. Guards would avoid looking at him altogether, it seemed, or only stare when they thought he wouldn't notice. He had caught one of the younger men, and nearly laughed aloud as he coughed and tore his gaze away.

The glances meant little to him, he had been gawked at enough in his time in confinement for any feelings about it to pass. These people thought him savage and dull without any attempt to learn otherwise, so why should he concern himself with their opinions. His tutor had been the only one to voice her worries, but had only in that she had begun asking about his health more frequently.

In the evenings when the guard rotation was thin, most of them men on duty made a point of looking at anything but him. The guards who were still stationed at the door shuffled at his approach, but didn't stare or fidget. The Outsider was waiting for him, writing at the small desk as he entered. He didn't spare Corvo a glance, until he finished his papers, only then turning to regard him. His cold air of nobility was still perfectly in place as he turned the chair and beckoned him closer. 

He move closer, keeping himself just out of arms reach from the chair.  
“The cook has been busy with the others. They all seem to be preparing for something important, but i have only seen the one speaking with the guards. Speaking in hushed whispers.” He said, keeping a stiff posture. “As far as I have heard, they already passed over the package and have spoke little more about it.”

The Outsider considered his words before responding. “There is to be a celebration in two days time. It is not something that can be called off or put on hold, but we should be able to turn it to our advantage. There is no doubt a a benefactor behind this attempt, and they will make an appearance at the party. Possibly to gloat, but it will be easy to single them out after their plot has failed.”

Reaching up from his seat, he took hold of Corvo's wrist and tugged, not painfully, but instantly until he came forward until he came to rest on the Outsider's lap. It was an awkward position, his thighs spread wide so he could be comfortable, he tried not to let his weight settle, not shifting or moving at all. Cool slender hands came to rest on his hips, pushing him down until he was completely seated. 

“It will do our cover no credit if our story isn't believable. It may be uncomfortable, but I will not continue any further then this without your consent.” He said, pulling at the layers of Corvo's clothes until his neck was revealed, and nuzzled the newly exposed flesh. 

At a loss for what to do with his hands, he rested them on the back of the chair, gripping the polished wood. A light brush of lips and the Outsider's teeth were in his flesh, marking him high enough that the bruise would peek out just above his collar as he worked. Corvo choked out a strangled noise that was not unlike a whine, his grip on the chair tightening. He relented when the mark was apparently dark enough to seem genuine in his eyes. 

“You will attend the party as well.” He said, his voice muffled as he peppered Corvo's neck with little nips. His hands had their own ideas as well, pulling at his shirt until they were free to wander underneath it, their touch ever light and teasing. “The court no doubt expects you as a trinket, but you will be there as my guard and spy. Keeping a close watch for those who seek to poison me.”

Corvo nodded, unsure of his own voice as the Outsider's actions spurred something inside of him. It was becoming difficult to focus, the intimate touches at his neck making him want something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone still reading this? I have no idea. Sorry it took so long for me to post....I am living trash.....
> 
> As I have no proper internet connection at the moment I might bang my head against this Fic some more.....
> 
> also I have a tumblr if anyone is interested in that, marsh-mellow-toast.tumblr.com
> 
> look my text box is almost as long as the fic....


	7. Chapter 7

The Outsider’s hands traveled as he spoken, petting and pinching, trying to provoke all sorts of noises for the guards outside of the room to hear. Corvo was careful to stifle nearly everything, but the teasing hand that pet soft circles against his stomach drew a whimper. Instead of moving on as he normally would, the Outsider stilled, as if startled that he had finally drawn out a pleased noise. They had kept everything as a show so far, only deeming it necessary to leave a few marks in obvious places. Tonight though those soft, cold hands were beginning to drive him insane.

 

Without a word, he moved, taking a light hold of his hand, and moving it that final space to rest against his slowly stiffening cock. The Outsider only paused for a moment before continuing his motions, stroking his length in painfully slow motions. Bucking his hips Corvo tried to find more friction, only to have him pull away until the pressure was nothing but a light tease across the fabric.

 

“This is cruel” groaned Corvo, his breath beginning to come out in strained puffs as he tried again and again to get the pressure he wanted.

 

“I’ve heard that before, though usually under different circumstances.” He replied, hardly seeming worse the wear for their positions and the tent in his own pants. “Maybe it’s time for you to experience that side of me as well.”

 

Corvo wanted to snarl at him, irritated that the arrogant mask was still in place even at such an intimate moment. Sliding forward he pressed their clothed cocks against one another, rolling and grinding against him to finally get the friction he was craving. The Marquees tried to pull back again, a coy smile on his lips as if he intended to tease, but Corvo didn’t allow him the space for it. Instead he used his grip on the back of the chair to keep himself close, not allowing any for any room between them. Hands tighten their grip on his hips, hard enough now that he feels nails through the heavy fabric of his pants, there will be bruises there tomorrow, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Not now that the marquees has started to help rather than hinder. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead on the Outsider's shoulder, this close he could feel the change in his breathing, the twitch and pull of his muscles as they ground together.

 

It sparked a desire to see more, more things to make him look less composed, to make him look a fraction of how he often left Corvo. Shifting his hands, Corvo made quick work of the ties keeping his shirt closed, pulling open the fabric to reveal the pale flesh underneath. The sight of it made his teeth ache to bite into it and leave a mark. From what he could see it the expanse of his chest was as unmarked by steel or wounds of any sort as it was by the sun. Without thinking or giving the Outsider time to react, he nipped at the soft flesh, sucking a bruise dark enough to match the ones on his own throat.

 

The Marquess tipped his head back, and let out a breathless laugh. “Who was it that was cruel?” He asked, taking the opportunity to undo both of their trousers in turn. Taking both of their lengths in hand, he began to stroke them roughly. Corvo had to stifle a noise with another bite, the quick pace was starting to leave him feeling breathless. Hips jerking in time with his movements, it wasn't long before he came, spilling on the Outsider's shirt. The Marquess finishing soon after, adding to the mess. He watches as he does, memorising the way his face changes, emotions unguarded and exposed.

 

They sat like that for a time, in a silence broken only by the rough sounds of their breath as the came down from the high of endorphins. Corvo drifted to sleep where he was, and awoke the next morning in the marquees’ bed with a short note to greet him.

____

 

Life progressed as normal, with things wrapping up in preparation for the banquet, he was assigned more often than not to the kitchens. Nearly every small task they had available was assigned to him, chopping stacks of wood for the stoves, picking the vegetables he had been tending, cleaning and even basic prep. Despite the language barrier, one of the cooks had taken to teaching him the basics of cooking and giving him all of the little tasks they have to keep the more experienced cooks free.

 

None of it was terribly difficult, and he took to each quickly, letting him listen in conversations as the flowed around him without worry. Nothing of note happened for days, save for normal chatter and gossip, who was sleeping with whom, a few glances even wandering towards him accompanied with stifled giggles. As the last days until the banquet wore on, the gossip turned to the sort of banter that usually flowed as tensions rose, jabs at each others expense and harsh words thrown around as casually as flour. Seeing as they thought he didn’t understand them, the majority of the random barbs were thrown his way. If it wasn’t for something that he had done, it was the way he looked, or his perceived lack of ability to speak. He never rose to the bait with any of them, though the temptation was there, no one in the kitchens spoke his language but he found life easier if he was thought a mute. A few of the cooks had tried to teach him things, on their kinder days, breaking the silence now would only paint him as a fool.

 

When the day of the banquet arrives, much to his own frustration he is pulled from the kitchen with the simple explanation that all the prep has been done and there is work for him else where. Elsewhere, he finds, is the marquees’ bed chambers though not for a “quick fuck before the banquet” as his escort guessed.

 

“Corvo, not at work for more than a moment and the cooks have you covered in flour.” Said the Outsider, gesturing for him to lean forward. He does, and much to his surprise, cold hands brush through his hair, shaking out the powder. He starts to mumble a thanks, but the Outsider dismisses it with a wave of his hand. “Congratulations are in order. Those involved in the plot against me have been brought in and dealt with. They confessed to the plan and pointed out more conspirators who have been brought in and detained for now.”

 

“What was done with them?” Asked Corvo, slipping his arms around The Outsider’s waist, craving the casual intimacy.

 

“It is best left unsaid, but the have each received an appropriate kind of cruelty.” He said, pressing close heedless of Corvo’s flour coated shirt. “I must confess that I asked you here for a rather vain reason as well. I would like you at my side for the banquet this evening.”

 

Corvo mulls over the offer, thinking on the unsaid implications of appearing as the Outsider’s consort in public. The man in question has taken to nipping at the exposed flesh of his collar as he waits. It would surely change his standing here, no longer the rumored toy, but the snickering of the other servants has never been a concern.

 

“Why?” It's the only thing that makes its way to his mouth in the jumble of questions plaguing his mind.

 

“My dear Corvo, even if I have not said it aloud you should understand by now.” He said, a small genuine smile cracking the porcelain mask.

“Possessive”

 

The outsider took to undressing him, stealing his hands whenever Corvo tries to help or touch in return. All the while he didn't stop nipping and biting in little places that could be easily spotted. At the collar of his shirt, just behind his ear, and, most painfully, at his wrist where it would peek from under his sleeve.

 

“As much as I would enjoy continuing our last encounter, there are more pressing matters that we must attend to.” He explained, gesturing to a neatly folded pile of clothes.

 

They were a far more delicate make than any he was used to, the fabric so light and soft to the touch that he was sure it would tear apart in his hands. The Outsider stood back long enough to let him step into the new pants, but once the shirt was on his shoulders, he was back, doing up the buttons. He took his time, letting cool finger brush along his skin with each button. There was a matching coat to go with the ensemble, the same navy as his work coat, but with seams and buttons of shiny stone metal. The Outsider takes a step back, appraising, his expression back to that carefully school neutral. Too busy looking at Corvo, he doesn't notice the extent that the flour has transferred him, his simple black shirt and coat spotted with patches of white.

 

Corvo can't hold in his laugh, nearly doubles over with it at the strange sight. When he looks up, he sees a flicker of the cruelty they spoke of earlier cross his features. It disappears quickly when he points to the patches of flour, still shaking with laughter.

 

Much to his disappointment the outsider only replace the coat, depriving him of the same fun of undressing him. It must read on his face, because The Outsider beckons him down for a quick kiss.

 

“There will be plenty of time after the banquet for what you have in mind.”

 

The Banquet hall is like nothing he ever could have expected when he arrives, it is not a room he has ever been to before, but with how The Outside often speaks of it, he had thought it would be dull. He doesn’t quite have any words to properly describe the full extent of the decorations that cover the space, flowers and food filling the tables until they look ready to break under the weight of it all. The people are no less decorated,in strange dresses and suits each of them bogged down by all the shiny bits and bobbles on them. Shiny pebbles, metal, bones, feathers and even more materials that he can’t place cover, make the people floating around the space look like a unique horror onto themselves. With the hall so full to the brim with will people, he’s sure that they must have arrived late, and a hush falls over the crowd as the Marquees enters. There is a little bit of pomp and circumstance that The Outsider seems to give little mind, taking his place at the head of the table even before they have a chance to say his name. He follows close behind, taking the seat he gestures to at his side, thankful for the space amidst all the horrible faces too keen on stareing. Their words don’t bother him, a sea of gibberish that flows one ear and out the other, but the tide of it with their unending stares becomes too much too quickly. The pedestal they are on makes it impossible to hide in any way, and he scans the room in search of some kind of relief. He finds it in the eyes of the server who brings him what he can only guess is his meal. It smell like some of the meat he’s seen in the kitchen, but it looks nothing like it.

 

The meal passes uneventfully, he spends it mimicking how the people around him eat, and catching the Outsider’s attention when he can, but it’s a temporary thing at best. There seems to be an ever rotating line of people approaching his seat upfront to speak or weaseling their way in on either side to cut in. As annoying as he finds being hit by various elbows, he can see that the Outsider is even less pleased at the constant badgering.They don’t have the chance to speak until drinks are served and the nobility is shooed away, so the Outsider can have a minute of silence.

“The pack of wolves has finally left you alone.“

“That’s an appt description. They do all have snapping jaws that want nothing more than to take something away to keep themselves fat with. “ He said, picking up his glass, smelling the liquid inside and offering the glass to him. Corvo had waved off the server offering it, unsure of what the liquid was, the colour and smell throwing his interest immediately. “The smell might not be immediately appealing, but the taste is good.”

 

Not giving himself a chance to smell the stuff again, he takes a mouthful of it and swallows, regretting it almost immediately. It tastes like rotten fruit, burning his throat as it goes down, and he coughs out the remainder into the glass. A glance at the Outsider, shows that he he hiding a laugh behind his hand, and Corvo realises that this moment is one solely for him to enjoy. He coughs to try the clear the remainder of the awful fluid from his throat, but it only brings on more coughing. He wants to enjoy this little stolen moment, but the coughing doesn’t stop and he feels as if he can hardly breath, too busy trying to force out liquid to bring in oxygen.

 

Corvo doesn't remember losing consciousness, but he's sure he must have, because he is no longer in the banquet hall. At his best guess by the smell of herbs and the tight wrapping on his head, he must be in the healers area. There's the skittering of a chair, and his tutor is at his side fussing and checking his bandages, before squeaking and bolting for the door. With how sore he is, he doesn't watch her leave, and doesn't even look when the doors slam open again. Two sets of feet click their way across the stone, and he doesn't put effort into looking at who has arrived until a cold hand rests on his cheek.

 

“My dear Corvo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿
> 
>  
> 
> There are lots of ways i was thinking of starting this, trying to be funny or self deprecating would feel wrong because I owe you all both an apologie and my utmost thanks. 
> 
> Thank you all for continuing to read and like and leave little comments that brighten my day every time I receive the email. I know i didn't respond to all of you, but thank you all for your kind words and support. 
> 
> I'm sorry that it took me two years to take the time to bang out what feels like so few characters. I hope that at least for some of you the wait was worth it, all of you deserve the best. The beast is finally slain.


End file.
